pulsing color
by deirdre's dreams
Summary: If only making people fall in love with you was as easy as that. Although a part of her is kind of glad that that wasn't the case in real life.  Slightly AU because of vague mentions of Harvest Moon. Dedicated to IHKF, who unknowingly inspired me.
1. prologue

**pulsing color | **_**prologue.**_

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Looking up from the book she had been focusing on for the past hours, her face scrunched up a bit as she observed how Genta-kun still kept up with the video game he recently found an obsession at.

It was a silly game as far as she was concerned. Even Mitsuhiko-kun, who is now curled up on one side of her bed, fast asleep, will find it ridiculous that the other teen is still concentrating on the game this late at night.

Yes, she knew of the famous saying that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but this game is just getting that statement too far.

He's playing the role of a girl whose main task, apart from growing her farm, is to find a husband, make him fall in love with her, and marry said husband-to-be.

The mechanics of the game, as far as her maturing mind is concerned, is foolish: as soon as you're done with your farm duties, you can head to town, talk to your groom of choice, give your groom of choice the items he loves—like firewood, milk, and grass, among others—and catch him in the right place at the right time to get your so-called 'heart events' which are supposedly indicators that said groom-of-choice is getting the hang of falling in love with you.

_Preposterous_, she silently scoffed. It's only on games like Harvest Moon: More Friends of Mineral Town where you can find men falling in love with you because you fed him grass and have babies who no longer grow when they reach a year old. Obviously, life—and love—is not as simple as that.

She was tempted to hit Genta-kun with her fountain pen, but seeing how she would turn up biased when she allowed Mitsuhiko-kun to sleep and not give him his version of a break, she decided against it and stepped out of her room instead.

She was no longer the wistful, naïve girl most of the people knew before. That naïve girl must have been so easily dissuaded by the promises of the game Genta-kun is playing right now. A lot has changed about her in ten years—but she was glad that it had changed her for the better.

Though in her case, it was not age that mellowed her down on her concept of love, but _heartbreak_.

Sighing a little, she proceeded to the kitchen as she planned to prepare more snacks for the three of them to keep them more awake and focused on the real task of their gathering.

As a responsible young man, Mitsuhiko-kun can be easily roused from his short break with proper sustenance. Of the trio, he was the guy-to-lean-on, and the silent, unassuming genius. It's this sense of mystery around him—and his lean, tall and handsomely chiseled looks—that earned him his steadily growing fan club.

Genta-kun, on the other hand, is of a different personality, and thus, it would take her to utilize a different strategy to encourage him. He is the loud and overly friendly pal who enjoys a prank or two and does not stay in one place—and who is _thoroughly_ obsessed with video games. His interest in athletics—and being great at it—gave him his own circle of fans as well.

With a personality like Genta-kun, it's not his wakefulness she had to address in times like this, but the subject of his concentration. Especially how to get him to surrender that video game so he could salvage his already decreasing grades.

Suddenly, she remembered a cute bespectacled boy of seven years who exuded such an imposing aura one can't help but take notice, including her besotted self. She clearly remembered, in times like this when they cram for their exams, how the boy could easily dissuade Genta-kun from his unhealthy habit of video games and focus on studying instead. He was just so serious, so assertive, so mature for his age and so sure of his actions that the best course to take with him was just to follow him.

But now, Conan-kun is gone. Had been gone for almost ten years, without even leaving a trace for them to follow through. Not even a note to reassure them that he is well in some part of the continent where they could not track him at all.

She smiled wistfully, then suddenly realizing where her mind had wandered, she forced herself to make the smile wider as she carried the tray of food and hot drinks to her room, intent on making sure the three of them would get out of their exams alive and successful.

But as she tucked the game console away from a grunting Genta and woke a grumbling Mitsuhiko to continue their studies, she couldn't help but think and hope a little inside.

If only making people fall in love was as easy as the game. But she was also kind of glad that that wasn't the case in real life.

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"_In our life there is a single color, as on an artist's palette, _

_which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love."_

- Marc Chagall

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><p><em><strong>Some notes before I sign off:<strong>_

I am not bashing Harvest Moon, even if it may sound as such with this entry. But really, one has to agree…you give a piece of log to a guy every day and give it a month or two, he falls in love with you? Had I known tree trunks were that effective aphrodisiacs…my point is, in this story, I'm trying to campaign for my concept of love, which must include some sort of emotional attachment and all that jazz.

My imagination of the possible dynamic of the trio in ten years' time is based on the animated movie 'The Girl Who Leapt Through Time'. Mitsuhiko is Kousuke, Genta is Chiaki, and Ayumi is somewhat of a mellower Makoto.

My knowledge of this series is based on the few summaries and fics I read, which are not extensive enough (but did not stop my Muse from blurting nonsense that I should write this ASAP and finish it ASAP before I forget all about this). If you find some moments OOC, my only excuse is that ten years did pass, you know? Some changes must have happened then.

In this story, Ayumi is 17 and Shinichi is 25. I know this does not stay loyal to the manga and anime, so my immediate apologies.

This story is dedicated to **IHFK** who unknowingly inspired me to write Detective Conan fics, especially the AyumixConan/Shinichi ship. This one is for you and thank you for all those lovely fics!


	2. black

**pulsing color | _black._**

_"There's something about black. You feel hidden away in it." _

_Georgia O'Keeffe_

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The second the ball finally hit the center of the tennis net, Yoshida Ayumi knew that her best friends were ready to go—especially if Genta was the one who did it. Intentionally, she suspected, because Kojima Genta would never like to taint his superb athletic record if he can help it. And the hit looked like a really lousy serve only a tennis-phobic person could emulate.

She waited on the bench, book in hand, as Tsuburaya Mitsuhiko, in his long strides, reached her first as she gave him his drink. Genta followed soon after, but not without exaggeratingly showing his sigh of exhaustion as he wiped off the sweat from his face with the towel. None of the trio seemed to mind the growing crowd that zoomed in on them on the tennis court gates as Mitsuhiko ruffled her hair in slight annoyance, with Genta smiling foolishly, his foot exercises still about to cool down.

"I won, didn't I, Ayumi-chan?" he asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Ayumi shoved the bottle on his forehead instead, using a little bit of force than what was necessary.

"Itai! Now, Ayumi-chan, that was uncalled for! Just what did I do—?"

"Destroy more of our nets Genta-_senshu_ and I'll make sure you're off the lineup for the inter-regional meet next month."

And as they said, nobody could doubt the words of the sweet but tough Student Council Vice President when irked.

"Aw, come on now, Ayumi-chan, I'm sure you do not mean that—"

Seemingly irritated at Genta's antics, Mitsuhiko gave him a noogie before sitting down next to her, giving her somewhat of a worried look.

"How's your arm, Ayumi?"

"As you can see, Mitsuhiko-_outousan_, she is still perfectly fine. She just gave me a painful—"

This time, it was Ayumi who threw him his bag with her good arm while standing up, clearly annoyed.

"The damage isn't that bad, it might heal in a week or two," she answered, indicating the sling she had just installed after her visit at the infirmary.

"Then you couldn't play softball during the meet?"

Ayumi sighed. "Kintarou-sensei said I needed to give it time to heal if I still wanted a perfectly aligned arm. But I'll still be in the quiz bowl and debate teams."

"Bummer. Our games are sooooo boring without you joining us, Ayumi-chaaaan," Genta whined with his puppy-dog eyes settling on her. Mitsuhiko scoffed. Ayumi raised her brow.

"That's so sweet of you, Genta-kun, but I'm sure you still remembered it was _you _who gave me this injured arm in the first place."

"Well, now—"

Now both Ayumi and Mitsuhiko raised their brows expectantly, but scowled upon hearing the giggles outside the court that seemed to get louder by the minute.

It was easily the boys' most blatant signal to retreat. Right away.

"Shall we go?" Genta suddenly blurted, seemingly flustered. They knew he probably just did not want to be seen getting publicly castigated by his best friends. Although a part of him may also be slightly annoyed at the growing audience—and noise.

With the Junior Detective League reaching a decade of solving cases, it was inevitable this kind of longevity will not only give the trio the recognition and fame they earlier aspired for, but also more fans to avoid.

The good thing about Teitan High School is that they still have Kobayashi-sensei to "manage" these "unnecessary affairs." With her infamous temper, of course.

"I'm sure Kobayashi-sensei's already waiting at the Crime Room," Mitsuhiko somewhat announced, with more emphasis on their sensei's name, and just as expected, the crowd easily dissolved upon hearing it.

Genta whistled. "Wow, Mitsuhiko. That was a new record." The guy only rolled his eyes before checking his watch. "We have five minutes before Kobayashi-sensei went after our ears," he said, sighing.

When they reached the room, Kobayashi Sumiko was already reading a case while Haibara Ai, standing by the window, seemed to be inspecting one of Agasa's earlier inventions before regarding the newly arrived trio with a short smile.

After her junior year, Ai opted to transfer schools that had lesser boys hounding her. They were against it at first, especially Ayumi who considered the lady her best friend, but Ai was adamant with her decision. Aside from getting the privacy she craved—something deemed impossible at Teiten where all boys look at you like a luscious goddess—the school she chose is also closer to her apartment, which gave her more time to tinker around in her makeshift laboratory.

It was three months after her transfer, and after seeing the change it gave Ai—she's calmer and more patient now—when the trio conceded that her decision was the right one to make.

As soon as the trio dropped their bags on the chairs, Kobayashi was already badgering them on the new case for the week, startling them from approaching Ai.

"This one is relatively easy, but the client is willing to pay big for this so I did not refuse," Kobayashi started.

Observing their somewhat confused looks, Sumiko continued. "He's the leader of a host club from a wealthy high school. He wanted to find out who's been giving death threats to one of his club members. The threats had been going on for three weeks and they still couldn't find a lead."

"That club member must be particularly special to him if he bothered to contact us to look for the accused. Hello by the way, boys," Ai muttered, amused, as she finally left Dr. Agasa's creation to give Ayumi an affectionate hug. "And what happened to your arm, little one?"

Over the years, Ai had easily developed into a young lady with curves that brought her more harm than good, considering the number of perverts that continually attempt to feel her up. While Ayumi has developed into a strong-willed, pretty lady herself, she still maintained her petite frame, which has constantly become the bone of contention between the two ladies.

"Long story, Ai-chan. Ask Genta-kun," Ayumi slightly grumbled, returning the hug. "Kobayashi-sensei, I—"

"You will not be included in this case, Yoshida," Sumiko countered, leveling the girl with a look. "I already checked with the Student Council and learned of the activities piled up before the meet. You have a fully loaded month ahead of you. Besides, we do not need the entire team to solve this."

Ayumi opened her mouth, then closed, then pouted while her team mates looked at her expectantly.

"Hai, Kobayashi-sensei," she silently acquiesced, still pouting.

Smirking, Ai ruffled her hair. "It's okay, little one. At least you'll have more time on your hands in the coming days with these ruffians not constantly breathing down your neck."

"Haibara—"

"Ai-chan—!"

"So, when shall we meet the client?" Ai asked, seemingly hyped at the prospect of solving another case.

"He's hoping we could meet him in this address tonight. He's collected all the death threats his friend has received and maintained a copy of the places and dates his friend has received the notes to more or less provide us with clues."

"When shall we leave then? I heard transport lines going this route are closing down on 6:00 PM due to an urgent technical damage they have to fix."

"No need, Haibara. We're using my car to get there. You don't mind going home late, do you?"

"It's not a problem. The area's not far from my route back home and I have nothing urgent to do. I don't know about these boys, though," she said, giving them a look.

"I've no backlog in my homework. I'm good," Mitsuhiko started.

"We have no exams piling up, so I'm good, too."

"I have—" Ayumi attempted, but was easily interrupted by Sumiko.

"Then it's settled. Go home, prepare and meet me at the school gates in an hour. And Ayumi, Ishida-san wants meet you at the student council's office in five minutes," Sumiko curtly replied, still giving Ayumi the stern look.

"Hai, Kobayashi-sensei."

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><p>Her friends were already waiting for Kobayashi-sensei when she spotted them at the gates on her way home. Her meeting dealt with the assignments of student representatives for the regional meet, and it took the officers a longer time than expected to come up with the final list.<p>

Upon noticing her approach, Genta enthusiastically waved at her, gesturing for her to hurry to them. She silently sighed at his antics before hurrying her steps.

"Where is Kobayashi-sensei? Aren't you guys supposed to leave by now?" she asked by way of greeting.

"Was the meeting that bad?" Ai asked instead with a raised brow upon seeing her slightly haggard face. "And we don't know where Kobayashi is yet."

"It took me longer than usual to get Genta off the final list," she said rather nonchalantly, raising the hackles of the said athlete in the process.

"W-wha—Ayumi-chan, y-you didn't—"

"Of course I did, Genta-kun. What kind of Vice President do you think I am?" she boredly implored.

They all knew she was lying when she says things in that tone.

"I can see Kobayashi-sensei's car approaching," Mistuhiko interrupted, finally walking away from the wall he was leaning into, looking at Ayumi. "We can ask sensei to drive you home before meeting the client."

Before she could answer, they heard the car's horn and turned to see Sumiko's car slowing down, her car windows lowering so she could pop her head out.

"Sorry, I'm late. I had to talk to the principal about the meeting before heading here. Yoshida, you haven't gone home yet?"

"Our meeting also ended late, sensei, but I'm going home now."

Observing her face for a few seconds, Kobayashi slightly smiled before putting on her stern face again. "You work too hard, Ayumi-chan. Why don't we drive you home first?"

"Ano, it's not necessary, Kobayashi-sensei. Besides, I also plan to stop by the grocer to restock my supplies."

"If you're sure. I can't bear the thought of a slightly disabled pretty girl going home by herself."

"Ne, I'm sure Kobayashi-sensei. You should be going now or you'll be late for your meeting," she said, smiling.

"If you say so. Well, hop in now, guys."

"Are you sure you can do groceries with that bad arm?" Ai asked, raising her brow once more.

"Maybe I can get Ayumi home and just catch up with you, Kobayashi-sensei?"

"Impossible. Ai just said local transport leading the residence is closed down. And the client's estate is located in a very private location. They do not allow any person from entering unless you have a vehicle** and** a prior engagement with the owners of the house."

"Minna-san, please do not worry about me. I'm also part of the Detective Boys, aren't I? I can take care of myself," she said with a sigh.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure."

"Well, we'll go ahead then, Ayumi-chan. See you tomorrow morning," Sumiko said.

"See you," Ayumi said silently, a little bit sadly, as she saw the car speed off the street until there was nothing left to see.

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><p>It took two days for Yoshida Ayumi to realize that Ai-chan will always be right. And two days to realize that she really should cut Genta-kun's head for rendering her slightly incapacitated.<p>

As soon as they finished meeting the client, the boys were steadily on their feet trying to look for clues, using as much of their free time in interviewing the studentry of Ouran High School. It indeed left her more time to be by herself, as she scampered from one room to the next, laying out the necessary adjustments for the upcoming cultural festival they are planning to hold for the upcoming week. It was particularly very lonely for her during her lunchtime, when the boys hastily eat their lunch and scamper back to the Crime Room to study the case further with their sensei.

By the time classes have ended, Ayumi found herself alone on one of the benches of the soccer field, staring at Genta's video game console of all things.

She really should cut off his head. Like, really really really.

Had she not been incapacitated, she would be in those fields right now, practicing softball with her team. Or carry some of those packages in the Student Council room to the stage. Or even join her friends as they solved that case that became harder by the minute than what was expected.

True, the student council had been very busy these days, but due to her injuries she was exempted from most of the work that required physical labor, leaving her with almost nothing to do after she had facilitated all the arrangements needed for their activity. She could go to the library, but one can only stay in the library for too long before the nails turn blue.

Looking back at the console, she sighed once again. She was supposed to give it back to Genta-kun now that they have all finished taking their tests. But their own busy schedules and focus of other things made her forget about returning it in the first place. It was only after she felt and heard the slight thunk the console gave out when she sat at the benches did she realize she had brought it with her today in the first place.

Well, practices are over and she had no more reason to dilly-dally in the school. Standing up, she was about to approach the baseball team captain when she noticed someone not far away from her right.

The man was tall and looked to be about in his mid-twenties. There was something so eerily familiar about him that it left her more interested in the stranger than what was deemed necessary or polite. The fact that a man his age was in their school gates at this time was reason enough to pique her curiosity, but it was the self-assured aura that he has, walking leisurely and observing the crowd and hands in his pockets, which gave her that nagging suspicion that this man was not here merely for sight-seeing.

Unconsciously, she frowned. Whatever the man intends do in this school or whoever he intended to meet is none of her business. Unless, of course, it was something that would cause collateral damage.

Shrugging off whatever gut feeling she had that she may somehow find the man really familiar, she proceeded to her intended direction, placing back the console on her bag which forced her to turn away from the field.

The minute she realized what was happening, not even her ten years' worth of stealth could help her from preventing the inevitable.

_BAM!  
><em>

In a matter of seconds, she already was directly facing the sky, her eyes tearing up in pain at the impact of the ball hitting her head, her injured arm smashing the ground and her leg tripping on the edge of the bench.

"_Yoshida-san!"_

"_Someone, please call the nurse!"_

"_Ayumi!"_

She did not register the voices, even if she noticed one was slightly more baritone than the rest. She did not register the slight dimming of her vision that was caused more than the arrival of nighttime. She did not register the growing crowd on her as they inspected the damage caused by that wild hit.

She did not register anything.

And she definitely will not register the sight of worried blue eyes staring at her and warm arms cloaking her form as she finally submitted to unconsciousness.

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><p>"—<em>it really is an honor for us to be extended by your help."<em>

"_It is not a problem, Kintarou-san. Yoshida-san is a close friend of ours and I always admire their team for helping us solve some of Japan's worse cases."_

"_Ah, I see then. So I figured you are here to—"_

The murmur of voices grew louder and louder, and all she could do is groan in complaint to will them to stop so the constant throbbing on her head would just cease. Her guests seemed to notice, since she felt them approach her bed as soon as they heard her. Momentarily, she noted how her injured arm seems to be encased in something hard, disabling her from moving it too much. She groaned again at what this new development meant.

"Ayumi-chan, this is Kintarou-san. Can you hear me?"

She groaned once more, slightly turning her head away from the annoying voice, her mind slowly processing that this is the school nurse talking to her and that she should answer her somehow.

"Ayumi-chan, we have to make sure you did not sustain any more injuries than what we diagnosed, so can you squeeze my hand if you hear me?"

_You're annoying, sensei_, is what she wanted to say, but unable to do so. With all the force she could get in her body, she squeezed her hand. Hard.

She barely heard her sigh of relief before she willed herself to gain consciousness right away, a habit she learned to develop through her years as a junior detective.

"What time is it," she whispered, voice croaked, as she attempted to stand up from her prone form with her good arm.

"It's 6:00 PM Ayumi-chan and we're still in the infirmary. The council and the principal were already informed of your condition so they allowed us to stay this long."

"Mmfff," was all she said before attempting to fight the slight grogginess on her form.

"I'm sorry but we have to give you some sedative to help you calm down as we heal you. You have incurred some bruises with the hit in your head and you were trashing when we attempted to fix back your arm. Thank Kami Kudo-san assisted me in calming you down."

At the news, Ayumi silently congratulated herself. At least she had not dulled her survivor and fighter impulses when still barely conscious.

That was until she realized that a name was added in that particular statement, a name she had not really heard being stated in front of her for years.

"Kudo-san," she drawled, testing the name in her lips. "Sounds familiar."

Before she could continue to raise her upper body with her good arm, she heard a slight chuckle in response.

"Yoshida-san, please stay still. We will help you get up as soon as we have you cleared of any more damages supspected. Can you talk?"

"Hai."

"Thank Kami, that is a good sign. Do you still feel the pain in the head?"

"Just dizziness, sensei."

"That's okay, just an effect of the tranquilizer. What about your ribs? Any trouble breathing?"

"I-iie."

"No fractured ribs, then. But your arm was not as lucky. We have to put it in a cast since you fractured it during the fall. It would take a month for it to heal so you are further limited with your actions. You would have a graver concussion had you fallen on harder ground. What about your legs, can you move them?"

She did as asked. "Yes I can move them, sensei. I got a bruise, I think."

"Good, we don't want to see you using crutches as well. Okay, give me your good arm and we'll help you up—"

"Let me assist you, Kintarou-san."

"Hai, arigatou, Kudo-san."

When her companions have already helped her get more comfortable, her vision was still blurry and stars were still a constant presence in her surroundings.

"Yoshida-san, I shall leave you with Kudo-san for now. I'll just inform the rest of the council and teaching staff that you have recovered and might not need to stay as late as what we expected. Kudo-san, I am truly grateful for all the help you've given me tonight."

"It's my pleasure, Kintarou-san." Somehow, she knew there was a slight smirk that went with that statement, which probably made the nurse melt again.

By the time Kintarou Yuki left the infirmary, Ayumi has already practiced the art of blinking her eyes to wakefulness, her head still turned to the side where the light is scarcer and the man named Kudo-san (who she now recognizes as familiar but still could not put a face to) is farthest. Slowly, she reached for the side table where she noticed a glass of water resting.

"How is your vision, Ayumi-chan?" Kudo-san asked instead, his own hand reaching for the glass.

With her nose crinkling at the speed the man had to get to her side of the bed that fast, she went back to staring at the ceiling, pouting. Somehow she hated the fact that the man already knew her, and she still is in the process of recognizing him. She already knew he was a detective, she deduced as much, but for the life of her a part of her brain must be severely damaged because she still couldn't make a thing out of it.

"I can see better now, Kudo-san. Thank you," she answered somewhat weakly, her eyes still adjusting to the new-found vision and light.

"I was surprised you did not see that ball early on, Yoshida. You're usually stealthy in avoiding things."

"When I already saw it, it was too late to avoid it, Kudo-san," Ayumi grittily replied, her hands unconsciously clenching.

"_Tsk tsk. Ayumi-chan, you're still as accident-prone as ever."_

It was that voice—and the way the voice said it—which did it for her.

Her eyes suddenly opened so wide in alert and she swiftly swerved her head to face the man, taking in his somewhat messy hair, lean frame, and handsome, chiseled face.

In a slight moment of confusion, Ayumi forgot her good manners as she stared dumbfoundedly at the open smirk-smile of the man, finally recognizing who had been with her since she had been unconscious.

As if sensing her thoughts, the man humorously patted her forehead and stared right back, amusement clearly shown in his eyes. "Hello Ayumi-chan. I'm Kudo Shinichi, a friend of Mori Ran. I'm sorry for interrupting at this time of day but I was wondering if you could help me contact Kobayashi-san?"

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**black | strangers**

"Strangers are exciting, their mystery never ends. But, there's nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends."

_- Ani Difranco_

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><p>Slight edits and updates, since I forgot o add this: thank you <strong>chaosrin<strong> and **IHFK** for reviewing this story. :)

If readers felt that some of the characters may be OOC, well...again, ten years have passed, right? :)


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